A rising moon beckoned I follow
while on a midnight stroll.
I side stepped through the unsettled graves
where some were believed to haunt.
It happened just once a year
And once was too many

This vaporous dwelling rests alone
and visitors are few
But on one particular night
I've heard, the visitors are plenty
and none can be found
Who visited that night

Discarding all those foolish fables
I ignored my fears,
And briefly studied the cobblestone walls
Covered in blankets of ivy and vines
before entering through the iron clad gates,
rusted and creaky from all the years of neglect

A few apprehensive steps in,
And the air became still
as motionless as death
Then I heard the unidentifiable sounds
As the wind carried fragments of voices
And distant cries of suffering
From the restless souls
That robbed me of my breath.

 
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